


Drunken Master

by dahdeemohn



Series: When Worlds Collide [4]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Established Relationship, Gen, Injury, M/M, Martial Arts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6946144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahdeemohn/pseuds/dahdeemohn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean shows off his awesome nunchuck skills to Sami, and it doesn't end well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunken Master

Dean’s talk show career was over almost as soon as it had started. Lord knew Dean had tried, but the Powers That Be found it fit to reward an aging egomaniac with a bad haircut and an awful fashion sense. After Raw on the following week, Shane approached Dean to give his support and asked if there was anything that he could do to make up for his sister’s slight, and even had a few suggestions of his own; Dean listened patiently, always patient with Shane McMahon because Shane had always been courteous and patient with him, and after a bit of back and forth, they had a very rough draft of something potentially very wicked. 

Truth be told, Dean didn’t care much for cages or gimmicks, but being able to dole out a maximum amount of punishment was appealing, and if Shane was going to entrust him with a task this monumental, who was Dean to deny him that. Of course Dean made a lot of silly requests, just to see what he could get away with, and Shane gave him his word that all of his demands would be met. Sure, a fire extinguisher and a mop and even the thumbtacks weren’t exactly surprises, but the nunchucks were something that Dean had rattled off without even really thinking about, and Shane laughed and assured him that he could have them.

“Y’know, I’ve been meaning to ask: why do you even have nunchucks?” Sami had asked after Dean told him about his encounter. 

“I’ve had ‘em for a while. I picked them up YEARS ago when I was in Puerto Rico, at a back alley bodega of all places. For a while they were a good way to just sorta blow off steam, ‘cause it takes concentration to use them and not whack yourself.” Dean fished through his duffel bag and pulled out a short chain, followed by two evenly sized pieces of cylindrical wood; he got to work on attaching the end loops of the chain to the hooks on each cylinder, while Sami watched on in fascination.

“Why do you have them separated?” 

“They’re illegal in a lotta places, so when I take a plane and anyone tries to stop me, I pretend the chain’s a piece of jewelry and that woods’ something that goes right up my ass.”

“Anyone ever call you out on that?”

“Not yet.” Dean grinned as he finished and admired his handiwork, testing them out with a twirl and pleased when nothing came apart. “I shoulda pulled this bad boy out on Brock. Too bad that fucker’s gotten stale with age.”

Sami went to go say something, but knew better than to discuss anything about that Wrestlemania match. He and Dean hadn’t even really spoken much before then, but he remembered the aftermath: how Dean tore the backstage area apart and was granted the next night off, since the suits didn’t want him to do anything too rash on Raw. Instead, Sami asked, “So how well do you actually know how to use those things?”

“Oh, I’m the best.” Dean dryly stated, as he gave another twirl. “What, you don’t think I am?”

“I believe you!” Sami affirmed, not certain if he wanted to tell a man that was a carrier of an illegal martial arts weapon that he didn’t believe in him. Dean picked up speed, his motions making a figure eight, then used the momentum to transition it so that the chain rotated around his wrist and handles of the nunchucks were rapidly grabbed and released. “Not bad.”

“I know!” Dean replied, waves of confidence radiating from him. He lifted his arm high above his head, held onto the middle of one of the handles and made a helicopter motion, which made Sami laugh. Just as Dean was about to chastise Sami about how his skills were no laughing matter, his grip slipped and the nunchucks flew right out of his hand. Time itself slowed down as Dean watched the handles project right towards Sami, the look of horror on Sami’s face as he realized that the impact was imminent, and Sami falling right off of the bed that he had been sitting on during this display and crash onto the floor. “FUCK! SAMI!”

Sami was quiet for a few moments, and Dean panicked as he grabbed onto the body of his fallen friend. Sami was dead. Dean had killed Sami. What was he going to do with the body? Everyone would know. Maybe if he left right now, he’d have enough time to flee the country. Wait, wasn’t Finn due to call sometime soon? Dean had promised Finn that he’d take care of Sami and now he had gone and murdered him with his sweet nunchuck skills.

“Ugggggghhhh,” Sami groaned as he stirred, and Dean barked out a laugh of disbelief.

“YOU’RE ALIVE!” Dean happily exclaimed as Sami grabbed onto his left eye.

“Dean, what the hell?!” Sami yelled. “Why’d you do that?!”

“Lemme take a look?” Dean offered, and Sami sat up, out of Dean’s grasp and hunched over. With a gentleness that the average person couldn’t possibly know that Dean possessed, he moved Sami’s hand out of the way, tilted his head up to examine the area, and gave a low whistle.

“Is it that bad?”

“It’s...not great?” Dean shrugged. “Lemme go get you some ice, OK? I think we might still have some in the bucket.”

“Why did we have ice? Were you drinking before you did that?” Sami’s voice elevated.

“Like a little. I had a little bit of Jack and Coke, OK? A shot’s worth, no more than that!” Dean brought a washcloth and the ice bucket over, dropping a few cubes in the makeshift compress.. “Here, lift your head up again.”

Sami complied, with his good eye shot a glare at Dean, then reached up and grabbed the washcloth. “I got this, you can let go.”

“OK, sure.” Dean nodded and stood up. “I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s fine, it’s just-” Sami was interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket, and as he pulled it out his face dropped again. “It’s Finn, he wants to FaceTime.”

“Shit!” Dean hissed. “What do we tell him?”

“The truth?” Sami offered, and Dean, the man that proclaimed he never wiggled, squirmed. 

“Is he gonna be mad?”

“We’ll find out!” Sami pressed the button to receive the incoming call.

“Hi lov- why’re you holding your face?” Finn’s voice came through the speaker of Sami’s iPhone, and Dean inched towards the bathroom.

“Hi Finn! Did you know that Dean knows how to use a pair of nunchucks?”

“Excuse me?” Finn’s voice was even.

“Yeah, he might’ve...got me in the eye. A little bit. By accident.”

“Let me see?” 

Sami moved the washcloth and Finn sharply inhaled. “Does it look that bad?”

“Is Dean there?” Finn inquired, voice still calm. In the background, Dean could be heard loudly whispering “tell him I’m not here!”, and Sami nodded. “Great! I’d love to have a word with him, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Sami walked over to Dean, now in front of the bathroom door, and shoved the phone into his hands, saying, “Finn wants to say ‘hi’.”

“Heeeey buddy,” Dean smiled, flashing his dimples and trying to make himself look as harmless as possible.

“So Sami tells me that you’re proficient with nunchucks?” Finn asked, expression surprisingly a pleasant one.

“Uh, yeah! I just got approval from Shane to use them sometimes soon and-” Dean started, and was cut off by Sami in the background shouting “tell him about how you were drinking right before you used them!”, and he visibly cringed while Finn’s eyes opened wide. 

“What was that Sami just said?”

“...And I might’ve had a shot of whisky before I decided to show them off to Sami.”

“I see.” Finn sighed and looked down for a moment while Dean sheepishly grinned. When Finn looked back up, his eyes were ablaze and grimace unlike anything Dean had ever seen from him. With a snarl, he continued with, “Now you listen here, Ambrose.”

“Hey Finn, I really didn’t mean to-”

“Shut it. Sami likes you, and I like you as well; furthermore, he’s an adult, so I cannot tell him which company he ought to keep. That being said, if you ever decide again that it’d be a fun pastime to put his life in jeopardy, I will stalk you, hunt you. What you did to Rollins was childs’ play in comparison to what I’ve already come up with for you. You will never sleep again without fear of me lurking around a dark corner and ready to do something awful to you.”

Dean wanted press Finn for more information to prove just how twisted these ideas could be. Then he remembered that Finn had spent almost a decade in Japan, and Dean recalled every scene from every Japanese horror movie that he had ever watched and thought better of it. Finn was creative. Finn was probably capable of a lot of unsettling things.

“Yeah, alright. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Good. Perhaps watch a few videos on Youtube as a refresher?”

“You got it. Wanna talk to Sami?”

“I would.” 

Dean handed the phone back over to Sami, and Finn’s voice was now full of concern as he asked how it felt and they exchange affectionate words like a billion times over. After running a hand through his hair, Dean retrieved and disassembled the nunchucks, putting them back into his bag. He then made himself comfortable on his bed for the evening and pulled out his phone to find and stream a Bruce Lee film. He’d find time to practice later. 

Definitely not around Sami.


End file.
